


Merry Mail Call, Everyone!

by BestApplePie



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BestApplePie/pseuds/BestApplePie





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lisacali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisacali/gifts).



**Miguel Alvarez**

He looks at the card. There’s Santa, standing in front of a red pick up truck, the reindeers in the back. Is this supposed to be a joke?

Of course his mother has always been the hardest, meanest bitch of them all. He still can’t figure out if she was too disappointed to show up in court to support him or if she just didn’t care too much. 

Looking at the picture, he’s starting to lean towards the latter. Maybe she feels his sentence is nothing to whine about - that he’ll make it out on parole soon enough. He’d like to think that. She’s mocking him to show him that it isn’t all that bad. It has to be - he only needs to worry when she’s getting all serious and shit.

He turns the card around to read the sloppily written message.

“Now you can spend your first Christmas with your real Dad and your Granddad, the legend. Happy now?”

She seriously got up her ass and asked his lawyer to give him the card just for this? 

Fuck her. First thing he’ll do when he meets his Dad is to ask him to have her stupid boyfriend killed.

 

**Carmen "Chico" Guerra**

“So Mama has started to participate in these raffles… she won so much shit, man. A year supply of cat food… we don’t even have a cat. Now she sells the shit we don’t need, but nobody wants that snowboard and it keeps blocking the bathroom door. The whole apartment is so full of shit, I can’t even go take a piss at night without the risk of breaking a bone. That woman told me all my life how damn unlucky she is and bla bla bla and now it all comes back when she decides to try raffles? Fuck me.

Do you guys get some time outside? It must be damn cold up there. We also won a skiing trip but neither of us cares about shit like that so my mom gave it to her sister for Christmas. I would have gone with you had you been there, you know. We could have made some profit from robbing the moneybags who go there on a regular basis. But with my mother… you know how she is. She’ll start whining again about how she tried so hard to raise me good and bla bla bla...

You remember my aunt’s birthday that we went to? Her husband’s nephew? The dork? Looks like he’s something with computers now and she tried to set me up on a date with him. I didn’t want to go but she tricked me, so I beat the shit out of him. Got you some teeth as a souvenir. I got to respect that level of dental hygiene I guess.

We are officially uninvited from every family-gathering of those people ever. If you weren’t looking forward to life in prison I’d expect a thank you letter. Since you are… well, at least be happy for me. I hate that family.

Thing is my aunt and her husband still show up to visit my mother. I seriously need to move out of this place. 

I always wanted to move in with you. Pity that won’t happen. Without you, it’s so boring…

You remember that old lady who runs the hair salon? She was robbed a few days ago. I was by the bus stop watching them. So pathetic man… so weak. Really annoying. I don’t get how people can be that way… I think I’m alright with you in prison, as long as you don’t turn into a pussy… Weak people are what annoys me most. 

Also, you need to do something about those conjugals. Seriously, I haven’t gotten laid in what feels like forever. If you don’t do something about it, I’ll have to break into fucking Oz and drag you to the shower with me.

Oh, yeah, I picked some stuff Mama won that you can use and a special surprise at the bottom (it’s my underpants).

Consuela”

He can feel his face warm up. There are the others, waiting to see what he got in that big package. He can’t let them get to it first. He grabs right past the bags of snacks and sweets, rummages through what feels to be some plastic bottles until he feels a soft fabric. He pulls it out.

There they are, in all their glory. He buries his nose in them, just for a moment. Her sweet, tangy smell. He never thought he could get that excited over a pair of her plain black shorts but damn it, he’s already hard.

Thank God nobody notices him as they shuffle through the box. He gets up - the wrinkled black fabric secure in his tight grip - and makes his way towards the showers.

Every step aches, but it’s the sweetest ache of all. Time to think of Consuela.

 

**Dino Ortolani**

“The kids and I miss you. The house is always full, but without you it seems empty. I wish you were here for Christmas.”

Gintare does not need to sign, he knows it’s from her. He puts the letter in the back - he feels like crying, but he’s not going to start now. He will never celebrate anything with his family again. Might as well get used to the idea.

He looks at the pictures his children drew. A tree and three… whatever that is. Stick figures or something. More like heads with legs sticking out. Must be from Michael… heh - the boy is almost as untalented as Dino was when it came to crap like that… 

Damn, now he’s smiling… he does not want to look like an idiot, smiling at some crappily drawn kid-pictures… even if it’s his own kids. 

In Prison, a man is never alone. Every weakness will be noticed and can be used against him sooner or later. 

Sofia seems to be into princesses now… man, he dodged a bullet on that one - fuck, who is he kidding! He’d rather watch every princess movie there is out there with his daughter than one minute of Miss Sally’s Schoolyard with those pricks in here…

Fuck. Fuck all of it. This is all O’Reily’s fault. Just because that asshole can’t even die right.

His mother didn’t even bother to write “Merry Christmas”. She just signed a card… could have shoved it up her ass. If she doesn’t want to, he doesn’t need her to bother. 

Well, Dad sure made it up to him… that letter has at least five pages. He’s not going to read that, he decides, stuffing it back into the envelope together with the cheap card. He’ll save that for when he feels like hurting himself.

Christmas in this dump sure sucks. He eyes the parcel. Maybe Gintare packed something nice for him.  
He rummages through it. Cookies, candies, fresh underwear, cigarettes and a fluffy blanket… he sighs. He should call her to thank her. That’s his life now… man, she could at least have packed him some porn. Or a picture of her in her undies or something.

Then again, if that picture got stolen… he’d have to find it and kill the guy.

And he just feels like sleeping.

 

**Donald Groves**

No cards. No letters. No call. Nothing.

Doesn’t matter, he’s not alone ever. Mom’s always with him. No matter what the mean guy in court says.

A pity he doesn’t get to be with Dad, too.

 

**Simon Adebisi**

She rarely writes anymore. She never wrote much, but now it’s nothing. Just a box of cookies.

He takes a bite.

Damn, she always was shit at baking.

She still made them herself though. He closes his eyes. 

There she is, standing in the kitchen, her long legs bare, the curly hair tied back. The light shining through the window engulfs her. She is beautiful.

He takes another bite. Maybe that’s all the “I miss you” he needs.

 

**Kareem Said**

There it is. Another bunch of cards, congratulating him on a holiday he doesn’t even celebrate. 

Of course the two holidays he actually does celebrate were left ignored. Just like they did back then, when he sent out invitations for a nice family-dinner to break the fast with him. They didn’t even have to fast - he just… what does it matter. He dumps the cards in the trash. Only empty phrases and some especially annoying lines from his immediate family, urging him to return to Christianity.

Sending them Christmas-cards - even when he’s in prison - isn’t enough. Unless he does whatever they want - from how he dresses to whom he dates to what he believes in - they’ll never be happy. 

He is so sick of all of them. Fuck Christmas.

 

**Shirley Bellinger**

She has done what’s right for her daughter. She is not a murderer. Katie is safe with her father in heaven. God bless her soul. 

But Shirley’s hands are empty now. It was here. Just a minute ago… it was right here. The devil has stolen her letters again… right from her hands.

The pounding on the door starts again. 

“Go away!” She does not need them. They are useless. 

“Honey, it’s just me. I told those damn cops to get the hell out and leave us alone. But you gotta come out, eat something… your mother’s coming over, she’s worried… we all are… you got to stop blaming yourself.” 

They’ll never understand. She’s happy for her daughter. But she cannot let anyone know. They won’t understand. This must be between her and God… and God has spoken to her. Katie is happy now. She’s playing with the other kids. God even let her have the pretty picture her daughter drew - it’s gone now - the devil stole it like he did all of the letters Katie sent her - but it doesn’t matter - it’ll always be in her heart. Flowers and sunshine and a white lamb. No longer the sullen, withdrawn girl coloring entire sheets of paper in black. 

But it still feels so empty. Alone. Every joy sucked out of her life.

It’s the devil’s work.

All that he has left her are letters of condolences. And nobody understands.

 

**Augustus Hill**

Running shoes. Very funny. 

Didn’t even have the balls to write his name on the parcel. Fucking coward. Making fun of a guy in a wheelchair. Fuck him.

At least his mother will visit. She can give the running shoes to Burr. He and the old man share the same size. Saves her a few bucks on a present for him. Especially now with the bills from that good-for-nothing shit lawyer.

For the guy to demand payment…

Augustus was against hiring him in the first place but his mother insisted - thought that without a good lawyer he’d lose for sure - yeah, he lost anyway. The gall that leech has to bother his poor mother after everything...

God, he hates lawyers. Scum of the earth. 

But there’s little he can do. Maybe hoping that one day, one of them’ll show up here. And when that day comes, Augustus is going to be here.

 

**Vernon Schillinger**

It’s really not a bad day - actually, this is his favorite time of the year. Christmas is the time when the letters and presents come in, and with that useful information about his fellow inmates. 

It’s been jolly up till now. One dago - Uncle Vinny or something - sent D’Angelo his old nightlight - a teddy bear shaped one. Said they were cleaning out the attic and he thought he’d like it. Well, Vern sure did. Too hilarious not to make fun of D’Angelo next time he sees that ugly face.

And Torres’ girlfriend just got a baby… The idiot’s been in here for over 2 years. This is hilarious. Serves the spic right.

His favorite must be the nigger though. Adebisi’s wife is thinking about getting a divorce. Vern would have loved to see the moolies face when he reads it - hell, he would have paid money to see it - but some idiot lost the letter. Ah well, he tasted one of the cookies she sent. That’s bad enough - he’ll be content with that for now. He just needs to make sure there’s no babbling - he wants the nigger to hear from his wife directly, with no prior hints to cushion the blow. No need to do him a favor, after all.

Vern leans back, smiling. Everyone is getting their just desserts.

“Vern, there’s one for you. From your father”

Well fuck. Just when he was having a good time. 

He takes the letter handed to him. Might as well get it over with. See what the old man has to say.

“... stole the money in my mattress…” Vern shrugs. Couldn’t have been that much. “... wrecked my car…” That one was shit anyway. “You were always too soft on them” Ah, yes, he knows that line. “This is the result of your bad parenting!” Vern sighs. Just nagging, nagging and nagging… He’s in prison and the old man has nothing else to say but give him shit.

And his boys aren’t showing themselves from their good side either. Well, as long as they don’t do drugs there’s hope...

But still. Why does Vern have to be the one stuck with this shit? Why can’t the old man nag someone else? 

He can feel his blood pressure rising already. Damn it. He needs a new prag to take it out on so badly. He just can’t wait for the new fish to arrive.


End file.
